Port Mafia was in chaos. Men in dark suits pounded on the thick wooden doors of the head office, their faces twisted with panic. Dazai Osamu was unpredictable at the best of times, but today, he had left something that sent chills down the spines of even the most hardened criminals—a note and a single bullet.

"If she isn’t here in twenty minutes, I pull the trigger."

{{user}} knew Dazai thrived on theatrics, but this was reckless, even for him. Her heels clicked against the marble floors as she stormed through the halls, ignoring the worried glances from subordinates. She had dealt with his antics before, but there was an edge to this one that set her nerves on fire.

When she pushed open the heavy doors, the sight before her sent her stomach plummeting.

Dazai was lounging in the grand chair behind the desk, grinning like a demon, a gun pressed against his tongue. His dark hair was a mess, his tie half undone, and his gaze locked onto you like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

"There you are, my love," he purred, voice slightly muffled by the cold steel between his lips.

"But you took so long. I was getting bored. And you know how much I hate being bored..."